


"You can always write."

by seulgsquish



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Letters, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, if jimmy actually wrote to thomas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:08:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24272605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seulgsquish/pseuds/seulgsquish
Summary: "Well, you've been a good friend to me, Thomas," Jimmy said earnestly. "If anyone had told me I'd have been friends with a- a man like you, I'd not have believed them. But we have been friends.""Yeah," Thomas replied in a murmur. What Jimmy said should have irked him, but he didn't care, not at the moment."I'm sad to see the back of you," the former footman paused, "I am, truly.""You can always write."Jimmy was true in what he claimed. He wasn't much of it with writing, though he did, in fact, try his best.
Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Jimmy Kent
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	1. Chapter 1

Thomas sat down in his usual seat at the servant's table, surrounded by chatter. Mr Bates and Anna were engaged in a conversation laced with sweet words and smiles. Mr Carson being as conservative as usual talking in barks. Yet despite the noise, it felt empty with Alfred and Jimmy gone. Even if Molesley was there as a replacement, the servants' hall lacked a youthful face and the current footman definitely didn't make up for that. It had been around two weeks since Jimmy had left, but he still couldn't shake the lonely thoughts that swarmed him. He was the first proper friend after O'Brien and Thomas wasn't even sure if he could consider what they had a 'friendship'. It was more of a business partnership. Regardless of the 'incident' that occurred, he was surprised that Jimmy had looked past it. Even if it was out of guilt. He still couldn't bring himself to think of the events that took place. It was mortifying. And as much as he tried to care less about Jimmy, Thomas knew he was and always would be more than just a friend.

"A letter for you, Mr Barrow," Carson said, interrupting him from his thoughts.

He took it, confused. Upon reading the front, he realised he recognised the poorly written address. It was from Jimmy. Why would he be sending him mail? He remembered himself embarrassingly asking Jimmy to write to him, but it had been a while. If that were his plan he would have done it by now. Not to mention, he didn't seem keen on the idea. It made sense though, why would Jimmy want to write soppy letters to a lavender?. He must be in some sort of trouble, Thomas concluded. Again he was disrupted, this time by the ring of the gong. He looked down to see his measly attempt at breakfast. This was becoming a reoccurring problem. Thomas would come down in the morning, but he would get so caught up in his thoughts that he barely touched any food. With no help from this recent letter. With a sigh, he stood, slipping the note into his pocket and went to busy himself with his tasks for the day.

Throughout the day, the letter burned tucked away in his jacket. Thomas itched to open it. But he knew that if he did now, it would only make him more curious. He just had to make it through one day. It wouldn't be too hard. His fellow servants had noticed his shift in behaviour though. He didn't sneer and Mr Bates nor huff at Mr Carson and he didn't frighten the hall boys, not intentionally at least. He was in a different world. Mrs Hughes had tried to squeeze some information out of him as dinner but to no avail. He didn't even tell her not to pry he was that away with the fairies. He reached his room, finally being free from work for the day. The under butler followed his normal routine admittedly a bit slower than normal. And he didn't put everything in the correct place either. His jacket sprawled across his armchair instead of hanging on the hook on his door. His shoes upturned and bestrew atop the hardwood floor unlike how they were usually neatly tucked out of sight. He felt his heartbeat pick up. Sitting on his bed, he pulled out the note that had been causing him grief all day. He hadn't a break from thinking about it as much as he tried. Thomas thought back to dinner where he filled Lady Crawley's cup until it overflowed without noticing. He didn't hear the Dowager asking him for a top-up nor did he see Molesley when he left the room causing them to collide in the corridor. He only just noticed the holes Carson was burning into his back, it was impossible to ignore. He wasn't even sure he was this bad when Jimmy was here. Taking a deep breath, he opened the envelope with shaking hands and unfolded the letter within it.

_Dear Thomas,_

_I am aware it has been a while since I had left Downton; I didn’t want to write until I had found a new place. I’m working in Inglewood House. It is a gigantic house, I’ve gotten lost more times than I can count. There’s also a lot more staff than there were at Downton but it’s only Lord and Lady Overton that we are serving so it seems unnecessary to have three footmen. I’m standing on my feet doing nothing for half the day and the other I’m in sitting in the servant’s hall. Lord Overton is only lucid for about an hour of the day. When I first came I thought he had died in the sitting room and no one had noticed. You should have seen the look on my face, but apparently that's the norm. Not to mention the pitch of Lady Overton’s voice, I don’t know how the Lord doesn’t wake up by hearing it. Her screeching can be heard from the other side of the house. I can’t complain however, I was lucky that I got a good reference despite what happened. And the pay is more than good. It is boring though. Everyone here is pretty miserable, even compared to Carson. None of them know how to have a bit of fun. Trying to make conversation is like chewing glass._

_I realise I’ve rattled on for too long and I’m running out of space to finish. You better write back, I’ll be miffed if you don’t write back-_

The sentence broke off there the word 'back' squeezed in the corner, Thomas flipped over the letter and saw a continuation.

_All the best,_

_Jimmy Kent_

Jimmy had clearly forgotten about the other side of the paper being blank. To no surprise, he didn’t correct the mistake. Thomas brushed his hand over the messy penmanship. There were too many sharp points and dribbles of ink. It reeked of something he was trying to forget, well move on from. His heart thumped reading his name in Jimmy’s writing. It was unnervingly intimate. He felt as though he could get arrested by that alone, from the way it made him feel. He read the letter over and over and over and then once more. Jimmy had taken the initiative to write to him, and he wanted a reply. Thomas didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. What would he write back? That he missed him? That his dreams were files full of memories of Jimmy? He couldn’t think of anything else. But no, Thomas couldn’t say those things unless he wanted the police knocking on his door or Jimmy watching him from the other side of a courtroom. Sometimes he drifted into thoughts of Jimmy accepting him, fantasies of the kiss being returned in his room without the interruption of Alfred or their hands brushing while they sat at the piano. It was a delusion, and he knew it, but he didn’t know how to stop these thoughts despite how much he knew they were getting out of hand. It was times like these he wished he was a normal man. Then he could be friends with Jimmy, properly, without Jimmy being tense through every conversation. He could get a wife, have kids and retire and just be happy. Yet it wasn’t an option for men like him. He would live out his life in service until the day his heart stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just needed to write this for comfort :'). It's only short but there are more chapters to come.


	2. Chapter Two

Lady Overton could make Jimmy’s ears bleed. She didn’t talk; she screeched at frequencies only dogs could hear. No wonder Lord Overton was barely ever conscious. When Jimmy first came for his interview, he saw him briefly whilst entering the house, slumped forward over his potbelly, not even being moved by his breathing. Jimmy had thought he had pegged out, and no one had noticed. He had inquired with the butler but apparently that was the norm. Wanting to rip your ears off every time Lady Overton spoke was also the norm. He had tried to joke about it to one of the other footmen but he only received a blank stare. If he had said that to Thomas, he would have gotten a sly grin and a chuckle of agreement. Only to be caught by Carson a moment later, reprimanding them for not scuttling about doing their work. Yet the footmen here were as dull as doornails. Everyone here was. The only decent conversation he had so far was his one with the butler when he had first arrived, but that’s because it was the only one he’d had. It wasn’t as though the people here couldn’t talk; they were just reluctant to. 

Jimmy sat in the servant’s hall polishing a serving tray. Deciding he had finished, he reached for the next one. Before he could reach he was interrupted, “Does this look clean to you, James?” Mr Drew, the butler asked sternly. Similarly to Carson, he insisted on not using ‘Jimmy’ as it was too informal, as if the Lord and Lady could give a toss. He ripped the tray from Jimmy’s hands before he could put it down. 

“No, I-” He started.

“Then polish it properly.” And with that, he marched out of the room. Leaving Jimmy to grumble to himself. 

The other footman that was also seated with him, glanced over, and in the millisecond he had the eye contact he spoke, “Is he always like that?” 

The other’s eyes flicked away. Was it fear of the butler? Jimmy thought. Alfred was similar, scared of putting a foot wrong. Even if he did, they both knew Jimmy would be the one in the front line of fire. He dismissed it soon after, however. Drew was anything but scary. 

“So, how long have you been working at the house?” 

“4 years,” he said plainly 

“Have you always been in service?” Jimmy tried again.

“Yes.” The response was curt. It was like pulling teeth. 

Thomas would’ve jumped at the opportunity to talk to him. They would spend time in the early hours of the morning sitting on his floor playing cards and discussing everything from their earliest childhood memories to who at Downton was the most likely to give up service and go travel the world. It was Jimmy, of course. He would take Thomas if it were to happen. They would go to Venice and walk along the Grand Canal sharing a smoke, Jimmy would also take him to Bordeaux and they would wander with no plans or direction, drinking wine whenever they felt like it. They’d do it because they could. No miserable rich toffs to wait over hand and foot. 

He could understand the footman not wanting to talk about himself, but he didn’t show even the slightest bit of interest in Jimmy, and that was something that was proving difficult to get used to. It wasn’t as if the other footman wanted to focus on polishing; it didn’t exactly require any concentration. He had no curiosity for him. It was a bitter pill for Jimmy.

He was later tasked with checking the clocks around the house since he’d expressed his keenness. In the foyer, he gently worked the clock’s mechanisms, when he heard movement from the entrance.

“Who’s this then Mr Drew?” Jimmy hoped his ears weren’t bleeding. If they were, it would only spur the Lady to talk more, not to mention he would probably get sacked if he had to explain it. 

“James, the new footman,” the butler spoke.

“It’s lovely to have a new handsome young face serving us.” 

Drew flashed a disapproving look his way. As if it was Jimmy's fault for the comments she made. In response, he politely nodded. The lady turned, a far too menacing of a glint in her eye for his liking. She sauntered off theatrically leaving himself and the butler who intern relived Jimmy of his tasks for the evening.

Jimmy had to talk to someone, he would drown in short pleasantries and empty looks otherwise. So he had written to Thomas. As soon as his pen hit the paper he couldn’t stop writing until he had run out of room. Admittedly, he had forgotten about the other side of the sheet. As much as Jimmy didn’t want to admit it, he missed Thomas. He had taken the other servants and Downton for granted, but not as much as he had Thomas. Jimmy couldn’t have imagined how dreary Dowton might have been if he weren’t there. The incident and all. At least it was something. But at Inglewood, it was just polishing silver until your hand had gone numb. He was aware his handwriting was illegible, but at least he was saying something to someone. He felt an acute amount of shame for writing now, after nearly promising Thomas that he wouldn’t.

He was surprised to see that a letter had come for him in the evening post. It couldn’t have been anyone except for Thomas. Picking at the envelope he backed into his room using his elbow awkwardly opened the door and sat on his bed unfolding the paper.

_Dear Jimmy,_

_I have to say, I’m quite shocked by the letter. I’m glad to hear you have found a new place so soon. I once had a friend who worked at Inglewood. He said it was grand.Apparently the Lady is quite something. It’s boring here too. It feels empty without you and Alfred. In fact, it is quite quiet aside from that, Lady Mary and Lady Edith are often away in London. Carson is always out at the moment, planning the war memorial for the village. He’s still seething about you being dismissed, not that he knows why. You wouldn’t have made it out alive if he did. One mention of your name around here and you would have thought Branson had suggested we ate with the family. I’m surprised he isn’t happy about your departure. It’s good, though, to know something the other servants don’t. Even if they don’t know I know. However, I’m not happy about your departure. I have had a lot more work to do. As has everyone else, the reduction in staff has been difficult to cope with. Maybe you could send the spare footmen you have to us_. 

_Surprised, but glad to hear from you,_

_Best wishes,_

_Thomas Barrow._

Jimmy couldn’t help but be a little chuffed at the idea Thomas was bored without him. He imagined him brooding in his rocking chair over a packet of smokes, thinking of Jimmy. The image of Thomas sat over his desk, carefully curating his letter to him, every so often pausing to think about what to write next. He had to admit to himself; he missed Thomas too. The time they had spent together after the incident was better than he could have thought. He promised friendship out of guilt at first. He couldn’t have just left Thomas to wilt away on his conscience. He thought they would separate eventually, get bored with each other. They _did_ separate though, Jimmy thought. But it wasn’t because he had wanted to. It was a weird feeling, wanting to be friends with someone, missing someone. Jimmy was used to not being bothered. He wasn’t a person who made deep connections. He just watched people move in and out of his life. It wasn’t as though he didn’t care about them, and he just let it happen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> considering the amount of time I took to post this, you'd think it would be better quality,,  
> still, hope you enjoyed :)


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